Charmed 1. Part 1

"REQUIEM FOR MAGIC"

AUTHOR: RFK  
SERIES: CHA  
RATING: PG-13 - Violence  
SUMMARY: The Halliwells, along with other friends, deal with the aftermath of Cole and Olivia Turner's deaths. AU Season Six. Set after "Double Emnity".  
FEEDBACK: - Be my guest. But please, be kind.  
DISCLAIMER: Cole Turner, The Charmed Ones, Chris Halliwell, and Darryl Morris belong to Constance Burge, Brad Kern and Spelling Productions. Olivia McNeill Turner, the McNeills, Andre and Cecile Morell, Artemus and Scott Yi are thankfully, my creations.

**"REQUIEM FOR MAGIC"**

_Part I_

Piper Halliwell reached for the cold water faucet and turned it on. The bathroom sink's pipes rattled for a few seconds before water gushed out. Piper heaved an exasperated sigh. Damn sink! The damn thing has been acting up since the . . .

The Charmed One's thoughts came to a screeching halt. For some reason, she could not bring herself to finish that last thought. To do so would remind her of the gloomy cloud that hung over the household. It would remind Piper of her younger sisters' grief, along with her own sense of loss and deepening fear.

After washing her hands, Piper left the bathroom. She passed by Phoebe's bedroom and heard deep sobbing. Another sigh left Piper's mouth. Poor Phoebe. Five days had passed since the double tragedy. She still found it difficult to believe that Cole and Olivia Turner were dead. Both brutally murdered on the same day.

While out on a police call, Olivia Turner had ended up with a bullet in her chest and another in her stomach. Instead of dying instantly, poor Olivia slowly bled to death inside an ambulance conveying her to the nearest hospital. Piper shuddered at thought of what the red-haired witch must have endured. She would like to believe that her older sister, Prue, had not suffered as much following Shax's attack, nearly three years ago. However, Cole's death frightened Piper. Someone – possibly the same person who had murdered Olivia – managed to strip away Cole's powers and stab him in the heart. And now that person possessed Cole's powers.

Piper made her way downstairs to the manor's first floor. She had a bottle of milk warming on the kitchen's stove for Wyatt. The moment she entered the kitchen, blue lights appeared in front of the refrigerator. They eventually materialized into the form of her former husband.

"Leo," she greeted in a less-than-enthusiastic voice. "I guess you've heard about . . ."

The blond-haired Elder nodded. "Yeah. Um . . . Chris had informed the Council. I . . ." He broke off and sat down in one of the kitchen chairs with a heavy sigh. "How are you dealing with . . .?"

"Cole and Olivia's deaths?" Piper finished bluntly. "Not very well. It's been a shock for me. And to be honest, I rather miss both of them." She had spoken the truth. She could honestly say that she missed the couple. Despite the shaky beginnings of her relationship with Olivia, Piper had grown to appreciate the redhead's vibrant personality and caustic wit. And she must be honest that she and her sisters have learned a lot more about magic in the past year-and-a-half than they had during those years before becoming reacquainted with the McNeills. And ever since Cole had saved Wyatt at least twice – from a group of inept demons and from the very dangerous Daley Baker – Piper found herself warming to her former brother-in-law. They had even managed to start swapping recipes.

Leo nodded. "What about Phoebe and Paige?"

Piper turned off the stove. "Phoebe has been on a crying jag for the past four days. And Paige has been staying away from the house as much as she can, even though I keep telling her that it might be dangerous." Shaking her head, she added, "I'm scared, Leo. Someone either very powerful or very smart managed to take Cole's powers and kill him. What if she decides to come after us?"

_"She?"_ Leo said with a frown.

Piper explained that on the very day of the Turners' deaths, Phoebe had a premonition of a woman's hand stabbing Cole. "And that's exactly how he had died . . . stabbed through the heart."

The Elder heaved a sigh. Piper noticed his melancholic expression. Which did not make her feel any better. "I don't know if this . . . woman will, Piper. Maybe you and Wyatt should join me in the Whitelighters' Realm. Stay at our Magic School with Phoebe and Paige. Maybe even the McNeills."

_The Whitelighters' Realm?_ Piper wondered if those months as an Elder had eroded Leo's sense of reality. "Leo, what makes you think that the Elders can protect us? Someone has _Cole's powers_. That means that she can go . . . _up there_ without any problems. Cole was able to, when those darklighters were killing your former bosses. Or have you forgotten?"

"Piper . . ." Leo broke of with a shake of his head.

"What?"

Leo heaved another sigh. "Nothing. I . . . When will the funeral be held?"

Piper removed the bottle from the saucepan. "Tomorrow, around eleven in the morning. It'll be a double funeral." She stared at Leo. "Are you going?"

Uncertainty clouded Leo's blue eyes. "I . . . I don't know. Olivia's family might not . . . you know . . . welcome . . ."

"Do you want to _go_, Leo?"

A long pause followed before the Elder answered, "A part of me does. Another part of me doesn't want to face . . ." He paused, as his mouth twitched uncontrollably. Then he took a deep breath. ". . . face the McNeills. I . . . I wish I had apologized to Olivia and Cole . . . for that whole mess with Paul Margolin. Only Olivia is dead and it's too . . ." The Elder broke off with a sob.

Pity welled within Piper as she watched her ex-husband weep for his dead friend and former charge. She also felt like crying. Instead, she encircled her arms around Leo's neck to offer him comfort. Several minutes passed before Leo glanced up. Piper frowned. "What is it?"

"They're calling me," Leo replied. "The other Elders."

_Great!_ Piper refrained from heaving an exasperated sigh. "Right," she said in a slightly bitter tone. "Only I thought you wouldn't have to worry about being summoned, once you became an Elder. I see that some things never change."

"Piper."

The Charmed One disengaged her arms from around Leo's neck. "You might as well go."

Leo stood up with a frown stamped on his face. "About Wyatt . . ."

"What about him? Are you still suggesting that we go . . . _up there_? Who's going to protect us from whoever has Cole's powers, Leo? You? The other Elders?"

Unable to say, the Elder merely shook his head and orbed out of the kitchen. Feeling a surge of anger and frustration, Piper grabbed Wyatt's bottle. She had been right. Some things never change.

A very somber Bruce McNeill descended the curved staircase inside the McNeills' manor. He had just left his parents' bedroom, where he found his mother pouring over the family's many photo albums. Naturally, Mom's attention seemed to be focused upon those photographs of Olivia.

His father, on the other hand, happened to be at the McNeill Corporation's office building – dealing with work that Bruce suspected might not be so urgent. But ever since Olivia and Cole's deaths, Jack McNeill had been spending a great deal of time away from home.

Grandmother Elise seemed bent upon spending most of her time inside her room. This did not surprise Bruce. She had done the same when his Grandfather Kenneth's death had left her a widow, over three years ago. With his brother Harry clinging to Paige Matthews and his wife Barbara bursting into tears every other hour, it fell to Bruce to deal with the aftermath of his sister and brother-in-law's deaths.

A sigh left the oldest McNeill sibling's mouth as he reached the staircase's bottom. He still could not believe that Olivia and Cole were gone. Murdered by some mysterious person . . . or being. Bruce had been wracking his brain to figure out the killer's identity. But this has been difficult, since the very two people who might have some information on the Turners' deaths – namely Phoebe Halliwell and Darryl Morris – had followed Grandmother Elise's example by secluding themselves.

Bruce opened his mouth to call for the McNeills' manservant. Then he remembered sending Davies to pick up the visitors from New Orleans. He still recalled Cecile Morell's reaction to the news of the tragedy. The Vodoun priestess had cried out in pain, forcing her husband to continue the conversation. And even Andre, who had been one of Cole's closest friends during the past decade, barely seemed able to talk.

Nearly everyone seemed to be falling apart. And Bruce had been so busy trying to keep everything together that he barely seemed to have the time to mourn his sister. Right now, he needed to continue making arrangements for the funeral, the burial and the wake. He had already scheduled the funeral for the day after tomorrow. Bruce wondered if Paige could ask Piper to help him prepare food for the wake. The doorbell rang. Bruce halted in his tracks. Then he turned on his heels and strode toward the front door. Seconds later, he found himself ushering Scott Yi into the house.

The handsomely thin-face Scott happened to be one of Olivia's colleagues with the San Francisco Police. He was also a Taoist disciple and a very talented sorcerer. "Scott," Bruce quietly greeted. He noticed the box in the younger man's arms. "Are those Olivia's belongings from the station?"

"Yeah," Scott answered. "From inside her desk. But there is one drawer that I wasn't able to open. Even with magic. Had Olivia placed some kind of hex on it?"

Bruce sighed. "She must have had something valuable inside that drawer. I'll ask Mom or Dad about a counter-spell." He paused. "How's Uncle Wei holding up?" Bruce spoke of Scott's local Taoist priest and sorcery mentor, Chan Wei Ku. Not only was the priest the McNeills siblings and Scott's kung fu master, but one of Jack McNeill's oldest friends.

Scott shrugged. "I don't know. He pretends that he's handling well, but I don't think so."

Nodding, Bruce replied, "I understand. Uncle Wei and Olivia were very close." He released a gust of breath. "Um . . . how is the case going, by the way? You know, Olivia and Cole's . . ."

"Looks like it'll turn out to be an unsolved case, as far as the Department is concerned," Scott replied. "Which is the truth, anyway. And if we ever find out who had killed them, the case will have to remain unsolved. Darryl is pitching the idea that their deaths might be linked to the Holly McMillan case. You know, Cole may have found something that the killer wants hushed up. That sort of thing. So far, the Department isn't buying. Not if it would make Mrs. McMillan seem innocent."

Bruce frowned at the police inspector. "What about you?"

"I'd say that our old friends from the Magan Corporation might be responsible. Wasn't a spy from the Gimle Order killed a day before Olivia and Cole?"

"Yeah, Cirhan," Bruce muttered. "Both Livy and Cole had visions of him being murdered by some woman."

Scott added, "And they both ended up dead. Strange."

Bruce shivered. "Yeah, very . . ." He paused. Scott had a point. It did seemed odd that both Olivia and Cole would end up dead after Cirhan. Bruce also recalled that Marbus – Cole's uncle – had said something about Olivia searching Cirhan's apartment for material on the Magan Corporation. "I wonder . . ." he began.

"You wonder what?"

Bruce revealed Olivia's favor to the police inspector. "You did help Harry and Paige search the penthouse for anything odd that the police might find . . . right?"

"Yeah," Scott replied. "But if Olivia had found anything on the Magan Corporation, don't you think it would be inside that locked drawer at the station?"

"But what if her killer didn't know?" The two men contemplated Bruce's question in silence. Then the witch shook his head. "Never mind. That seems pretty thin. The killer would have had to known that Olivia was at Cirhan's apartment in the first place." He added, "At least you managed to get some of the more questionable items out of the penthouse. Right?"

Scott nodded. "Don't worry. Paige had teleported everything – Olivia's Book of Shadows, Cole's _little book of spells_ and God knows what other magical tools and items to here. Even their books and herbs. And Harry had seemed most insistent that Paige teleported the desk. You know, the eighteenth century desk. What's so special about it, anyway?"

Mild relief flooded Bruce's chest. "Olivia kept a lot valuable objects inside it. Magical objects that included her special Book of Shadows with more powerful spells and the Aingeal staff."

"She could fit a staff inside . . .?"

Bruce explained that the Aingeal staff could magically alter in size. "Thankfully, the desk is locked. Whoever killed Cole . . ."

Scott's next words chilled Bruce to the bone. "The desk wasn't locked. I was examining its contents before Paige had it teleported. I saw a good number of knick-knacks inside . . . including that book you had described. What does the staff looked like?"

In a hoarse voice, Bruce replied, "It's made of a white oak with carvings of Celtic symbols around it. There's a carving of a dragon's head on top . . ." He broke off at the sight of Scott's confused expression. "You did see it, right?"

A long pause followed before Scott answered, "No."

"Oh my God!" Bruce rushed toward the staircase. "If the desk . . ." He left the sentence unfinished as he rushed upstairs. Scott followed.

The two men headed for a room that contained the valueable items from the Turners' penthouse. One of the items happened to be the eighteenth century cylinder desk that Olivia had purchased in Paris, several years ago. Bruce hesitated before he pushed up the cylinder top. After a thorough search, he discovered to his horror that one item seemed to be missing – namely the very powerful Aingeal staff.

_END OF PART I_


	2. Part 2

"**REQUIEM FOR MAGIC"**

_Part II_

Christopher Halliwell aka Perry usually did not mind assuming whitelighter duties. The work appealed to his desire for continuous action. He believed that it not only helped contribute to the eventual destruction of evil, it would also enable him to save his brother from such a path. But there was one aspect of being a whitelighter that he disliked – namely dealing with the Elders Council.

He did not actively dislike the Elders – save for one who had put the job before family. But there were times Chris found them too critical and self-righteous. Worse, they seemed to harbor a belief that the magical world had to answer to them. This attitude certainly seemed apparent in their concern over Cole and Olivia Turner's deaths. Chris could not even understand why they would concern themselves with the matter. But the Elders seemed to have plenty of information on the situation – thanks to his father.

"I am curious, Mr. Perry," Elder Odin said. "When you had first informed us that Olivia McNeill's marriage to Belthazor would not spell any future trouble, why did you fail to add that they would soon be dead?"

Chris sighed. "Because they weren't dead. At least not in my future." Murmurs of concern filled the Council room. "Something . . . something must have went wrong."

Another Elder, whom Chris recognized as the Magic School's headmaster, exclaimed, "You mean to say there is a demon roaming about with Belthazor's powers? A demon who may have just altered the future?"

_Demon?_ Chris wondered. At first, he had assumed that a demon was responsible for the Turners' deaths. But certain facts did not make sense. "I'm not so sure that their killer was a demon," he finally said.

Elder Gideon gave Chris a pointed stare. "Meaning?"

"Meaning . . . someone had to get pretty close to Cole in order to kill him in his own home. And I doubt any demon could have done it without being caught. Cole . . . well, he was pretty good at sniffing out other demons. I think he would have detected one right away."

A frown stamped on his florid face, Leo added, "I'm afraid that Chris is right. But who could have killed Cole?"

Chris sighed. "Probably a mortal. A mortal who practices magic."

A fair-haired man, who looked like a mortal in his mid-forties, retorted, "There is no such thing as a mortal who practices magic, Mr. Perry." Chris felt a surge of annoyance.

"Of course there is!" a female's voice shot back. The Russian accent and contemptuous tone informed Chris that Elder Natalia Stepanova had come to his aid. She had befriended the Turners during the upheaval within the Whitelighters Realm, last summer. "The mortals in questions are witches, warlocks, sorcerers, sorceresses and the occasional wizard. Please do not tell me that you believe that nonsense about witches not being mortals."

From the corner of his eye, Chris saw his father's face turn red. A slight sense of satisfaction surged through him. How many times had he witnessed Dad's use of the argument that witches were not mortals, whenever Grandfather Victor insisted his daughters and later, grandsons try to maintain a life outside of magic?

Chris continued, "There are other reasons why I don't think a demon had killed Olivia and Cole. One, Olivia had been shot. And two, the killer also took her staff."

Elder Sandra's pale and slender face frowned slightly. "Staff?"

"The Staff of Aingeal," Leo replied. "It had been originally created for a McNeill wizard."

Elder Natalia added, "An incubus named Aoidh had created the staff for his son, an _adamatti_ or wizard named Niallghas, who passed it to his son, Duncan McNeill. Only Duncan McNeill's descendants – those with a pyrokinetic ability like Olivia can wield the staff." She paused, as if a thought came to her. "Good heavens! Is it possible that a McNeill had killed the Turners?"

When he had first learned about the Aingeal Staff's theft from Piper, Chris considered a similar possibility. He meant to speak with Bruce McNeill about it, but the Council had summoned him. Chris replied, "It's possible. Like you said, only a McNeill can wield the staff. I'll talk to Olivia's family."

"Elder Leo can do it," Elder Odin said. "He is more familiar with them."

Chris forced himself to refrain from expressing his annoyance. "Well, considering the McNeills' . . . uh, conflict with Elder Leo right now, I don't think that would be a good idea."

Leo's eyes became slits. The other Elders eventually agreed, much to Chris' relief. The last thing he needed . . . or wanted was his father interfering in his investigation of the Turners' deaths.

As many of her visions have done so in the past, Phoebe Halliwell's latest one appeared in her mind before she knew what had hit her. And it all began with a touch.

The Charmed One's recent crying jag had led her to fall asleep a lot sooner than she normally did. And this is why Phoebe found herself wide awake at two-twenty-five in the morning. She leaned over to switch on the lamp that sat on her nightstand. As she swung over the bed's edge, her foot struck a cardboard box situated next to her bed. The box, she recalled contained some objects she had collected during her relationship with Cole. She had discovered it earlier this afternoon. Phoebe had meant to examine its contents, but she never got around to doing it. It was simply too painful.

Before she could rise from her bed, Phoebe's eyes caught sight of a red pullover sweater that once belonged to Cole. She recognized it as the same sweater he had worn on that day he and Prue had transported to that Old West town in the past. The day she had finally decided to give their relationship a chance. Tears threatened to fall from her eyes. Minutes passed before Phoebe finally wiped away her tears. Then she bent down to pick up the sweater. The moment she touched it, the visions hit.

_Phoebe saw an image of Cole and Olivia cuddling on the sofa, inside their penthouse living room. She saw Cole sharing a table with Janet Hui and Holly McMillan inside a courtroom. She saw the half-demon having a discussing with a handsome, middle-aged man with chestnut hair. Then an image of Cole and a very pregnant Olivia immediately followed. Phoebe saw herself sharing a booth with Cole, Olivia and a dark-haired man inside the Golden Gate restaurant. The series of visions ended with Cole hugging a red-haired young woman that bore a strong resemblance to Olivia._

A gasp escaped from Phoebe's mouth. She nearly fell forward before she caught herself in time. She remained bent over for several seconds, as she struggled to abate her dizziness. Then she thought about her visions. Holly McMillan on trial, a pregnant Olivia and Cole hugging a strange young woman that bore a slight resemblance to Olivia and Gweneth McNeill? It occurred to the Charmed One that she may have seen the future. Cole's future. Which had to be impossible, considering he was dead.

Once her dizziness ended, Phoebe rose to her feet and quickly made her way to her older sister's room. She burst inside with a cry on her lips. "Piper! Piper, wake up!" She switched on the bedroom's lights.

"Huh?" Piper replied groggily. "Who's that? Phoebe?" Then she promptly fell back to sleep.

A determined Phoebe strode over to the bed and shook the older woman's shoulder. "Piper! C'mon! Wake up!"

Something resembling a growl escaped from Piper's mouth. Then she heaved a sigh, before struggling to a sitting position. She glared at the younger Charmed One. "This had better be good. It's . . ." She glanced at her small clock on the nightstand. ". . . almost three in the morning?" Her voice rang with outrage. "Phoebe!"

"Piper, I'm sorry that I woke you up, but something important has happened." Phoebe paused dramatically. "I've had a premonition."

Piper looked suddenly alert. "What? A demonic attack?"

Phoebe shook her head. "No, it's about Cole."

The older sister heaved an exasperated sigh. "Oh for God's sake, Pheebs! You woke me up about a dream?"

"Not a dream. A premonition," Phoebe insisted. "I've been awake for the past hour or so." She proceeded to tell Piper about her visions. "Olivia was pregnant in one of them, Piper. Pregnant. And Cole was hugging this redhead that looked a lot like Olivia and her mother. I think that was Cole and Olivia's daughter." She refrained from telling Piper about the dark-haired man with the Turners and herself.

Looking slightly annoyed, Piper coolly retorted, "So what are you saying, Pheebs? That Olivia and Cole are still alive?"

"Or they will be . . . in the future." Phoebe noticed the dubious expression on her sister's face. "What? You act as if that's impossible. We're witches, Piper. We've been dealing with magic for at least five-and-a-half years. Heck, Cole once came back from Wasteland . . . _after_ he had been dead for at least four months."

Piper sighed. "Yes Phoebe, I know. But Cole had a reason for coming back. You. Now . . ." She shook her head. "What reason would he have? Olivia? She's also dead. Which means that she also doesn't have a reason for coming back. Maybe you were drea . . ."

"Piper, I was wide awake when I had my premonitions," Phoebe said in a hard voice. Her sister's doubts, along with Piper's comments about Cole's changed feelings toward her had irked the middle Charmed One. "I wasn't imagining things."

Similar dark eyes stared at Phoebe. "You really are serious, aren't you?"

_At last!_ "Yes," Phoebe answered firmly. "And if I'm having these visions, it could only mean one thing. Cole and Olivia were never meant to die.

The funeral service for the Turners turned out to be as depressing as she had imagined it would be. And the burial service did nothing to alleviate the gloom. Cecile Dubois Morrell had never wanted to come here. If she had her way, she would have remained in New Orleans. But her husband and her mother eventually convinced her into coming to San Francisco.

The robed, middle-aged Wiccan priestess that stood behind the two coffins, continued her sermon. Cecile recognized her as a witch from Gweneth McNeill's coven. Cecile had assumed that the Wiccan priest who had co-officiated Olivia and Cole's wedding, would offer a sermon at the funeral. But according to Bruce, Arthur McMannus was suffering from ill health.

"That which belongs to fellowship and love. That which belongs to the circle, remains with us. The wheel turns. As life is a day, so our sister and her mate have passed into night. Nothing is final, and we who remain behind know that one day, we will once again share the bread and wine with them. O' blessed spirit, we bid you farewell, for you await a new destiny," the priestess continued.

Cecile wiped the tears from her eyes. She seemed to have been doing nothing else, ever since she had learned of the Turners' deaths nearly a week ago. In fact, she found it difficult to believe that someone had the nerve, let alone the brains, to pull off the double murder of a powerful witch and her even more powerful half-demonic husband.

Finally, the sermon ended. Because Olivia happened to be a police officer, an honor guard compromising of uniformed policemen took a step toward her coffin. They raised their rifles in unison and fired. Three times. More police officers carefully removed the flag from Olivia's coffin, folded it several times and presented it to a weeping Gweneth McNeill. More tears flowed from Cecile's eyes.

One by one, people stepped forward to place flowers or other objects upon the couple's coffins. Cecile saw Cole's uncle Marbus placed what looked like a signet ring upon the half-daemon's coffin. Sheila Morris had flowers for the couple. Darryl merely closed his eyes for a brief second, shook his head in despair and followed his wife. Like the Morrises, both Piper Halliwell and Paige Matthews had flowers for the couple. Cecile was surprised to see Leo Wyatt, of all people, at the service. He placed what looked like a necklace on Olivia's coffin. The Morrells finally stepped forward. Andre murmured, "For you, man." He placed a small, leather-bound grimoire on Cole's coffin.

Clutching a silver necklace that featured a carving of the sisterhood symbol, Cecile took a deep breath. She leaned forward and placed the necklace on Olivia's coffin. As she drew back, a wave of visions hit her. They happened to be the same visions she had experienced when she first met Cole – a long marriage with Olivia that included children. The moment the visions ended, dizziness struck the Vodoun priestess. She gasped out loud, as she began to sway.

"Cecile?" A strong hand belonging to Andre gripped her arm. Cecile inhaled sharply and walked away from the two coffins with her husband. She saw both the Morrises and Phoebe Halliwell staring at her. "What's wrong?" Andre hissed.

Cecile took several deep breaths. "Get me back to the house. Please."

Once the service ended, the cars conveying the mourners finally left the cemetery and returned to the McNeill home. Cecile and Andre marched straight toward the nearest room – the well-furnished library. Cecile immediately sat down on the leather sofa. "So what the hell happened out there?" Andre demanded. "You've been hyperventilating since we left the cemetery."

Before Cecile could reply, Bruce McNeill and his parents entered the library. "Is there something wrong?" the oldest McNeill sibling asked. He wore an anxious expression on his face. "We saw what happened at the cemetery."

"It was a vision," Cecile replied in a hoarse voice. "Or more like visions. They were the same ones I had when I first met Cole."

Pain briefly flashed in Jack McNeill's blue-gray eyes. "I'm sorry to hear that," he murmured. "It's been painful for every . . ."

Cecile shook her head. "No, you don't understand."

At that moment, Phoebe Halliwell and Darryl Morris burst into the library. The Charmed One hesitated before she sat next to Cecile. "Oh my God! Are you okay?" she asked apprehensively.

"Yeah, Phoebe, Sheila and I saw you faint at the cemetery," Darryl added. "You looked as if you were about to faint."

Bruce replied, "It's okay, guys. Cecile had a vision. Apparently, a very powerful one."

Phoebe's next words took everyone – including Cecile – by surprise. "You had a premonition, didn't you? About Cole and Olivia."

Everyone stared at Phoebe. Cecile demanded in a harsh tone, "You too? It's weird. I never had a vision like that before. Especially about someone who was already dead."

"It happened to me, early this morning," Phoebe said. "I couldn't sleep."

An exasperated Mr. McNeill interrupted sharply. "Could someone please tell me what the hell you two are talking about? The rest of us don't speak _'Seer'_."

Cecile took a deep breath. "I had some visions of Olivia and Cole. Visions of their future."

"So did I," Phoebe quickly added.

Mrs. McNeill regarded the two seers with disbelief. "That's impossible!" she cried. "They're both . . . both dead. How could you . . .?"

"I don't know," Cecile replied. "Maybe . . . perhaps it means they were never meant to be killed. Maybe someone changed the future or something."

Andre added, "That makes sense." Cecile stared at him. "Well, I always thought there was something strange about their deaths."

"Getting shot . . ." Bruce hesitated, as he took a deep breath. "Olivia had been shot in the line of duty. I just don't see anything odd about it."

Darryl spoke up, taking everyone by surprise. "I do." His comment drew stares from Olivia and the others. "Didn't any of you find it odd about how they were killed? Especially Cole? Someone had to be close enough to get to him. No ordinary demon could have done it, no matter how powerful. Cole would have sensed one of them in an instant."

"Perhaps it was a warlock or some sorcerer," Mr. McNeill suggested. "Or sorceress. Phoebe did have a vision of a female killing Cole. Remember that warlock, Gary Wheeler? He could have hired someone to get to them."

Darryl firmly reminded everyone that the killer had taken Olivia's staff. "A staff that would be no good to anyone, except for a McNeill witch. Why would Gary Wheeler be interested in that? One would think he was more interested in that amulet that Cecile now has. The one he had used on Cole before his and Olivia's wedding. And even if the killer was mortal, he or she would have to be in disguise. And wouldn't that take a lot of magic?"

Phoebe heaved a small sigh. "What's your point?"

It was Cecile who answered. "Cole could sense a warlock or sorcerer or any other mortal if he or she was using magic."

"She's right," Andre added. He turned to Darryl. "So, who do you think killed them?"

The police lieutenant took a deep breath. At that moment, Cecile managed to pick up on his thoughts without meaning to. What she had sensed shocked her. "You can't be serious!" she softly exclaimed.

Andre shot a quick glance at her. "What are you talking about?"

But Cecile ignored him. "Are you serious? You actually think that Olivia had killed Cole?"

Everyone stared at Olivia's partner. "Darryl, what the hell are you getting at?" Mr. McNeill demanded.

Darryl nodded grimly. "As Cecile had pointed out . . ." The Vodoun priestess felt a warm flush of embarrassment for her _faux pas_. ". . . I think that Olivia had killed Cole. Another Olivia. You know, she once told me about alternate dimensions and universes, where other versions of ourselves exist." He turned to Mr. McNeill. "What would happen if the only McNeill capable of using that fire staff turned out to be . . . well, evil or something like that?"

Olivia's father gave Darryl a long, hard stare. "The staff would remained hidden by the family," he finally said. "If other McNeill fire starters proved incapable of wielding the staff, and the last one remaining happened to be a warlock or something in that line . . ." He paused, as his blue-gray eyes flew opened. "Good God! Of course!"

Gweneth McNeill frowned at her husband. "Jack, what is it?"

"I see what Darryl is driving at," the McNeill patriarch continued. "If this other Olivia was evil, she probably was denied possession of the Aingeal Staff. Or denied any testing to see if she could wield it. This means . . ."

Darryl finished, ". . . that another Olivia would have to go to an alternate dimension to get her hands on a staff. Like here. And that would explain why Cole's killer had been able to get so close to him. That's why Olivia's keys, cell phone and wedding ring ended up at the penthouse."

Cecile added, "And that would explain Olivia's last words to you, right? When you had asked her to name her killer." Darryl glanced sharply at her. "Your thoughts are broadcasting all over the place. It's not that hard for me to pick up on what you're thinking."

With a heavy sigh, Darryl said, "Yeah, well Olivia kept saying _'me'_ over again, until she fell unconscious."

"So, Livy . . ." Gweneth McNeill closed her eyes for a brief moment. "She was killed by a double from an alternate world? A double who wanted her staff?"

A grim Cecile replied, "I think it's possible, Mrs. McNeill."

A heavy silence filled the room. Then Phoebe said, "How do we get it back?"

Everyone stared at the Charmed One. Bruce frowned. "What?"

"How do we get back the staff? And what about my premonitions? And Cecile's?"

Bruce replied, "One step at a time, Pheebs. One step at a time."

_END OF Part II_


	3. Part 3

"**REQUIEM FOR MAGIC"**

_Part III_

"I don't think they don't know what do, if you ask me," Phoebe declared to her sisters. The Charmed Ones and their whitelighter sat inside the Halliwell kitchen for breakfast, the following morning.

A derisive snort escaped from Piper. "Who does, Phoebe? I mean . . . c'mon. If what Darryl had said is true, how can any of us get that staff back? There must be thousands of alternate dimensions that this _'evil'_ Olivia may have come from." She sighed, as she placed a dirty bowl into the sink. "Unless there's a way to find out from which dimension she came." Piper glanced at Chris. "Is there?"

The young whitelighter shrugged his shoulders. "How would I know?"

"You're the whitelighter," Paige shot back.

Chris made it clear that he lacked any experience with alternate realities. "This is my first time at bat with time travel."

"Then why don't you ask the Elders?" Paige demanded.

Rolling his eyes at the same time, Chris heaved a sigh. "Can't I finish eating first?" he muttered.

"Go ahead," Piper said, as Paige opened her mouth to protest. "But I need to know something." She paused, as her mind focused upon her son. "With Cole and Olivia dead, has the future changed? Is Wyatt . . .?"

Chris finished, ". . . still a powerful force of evil in the universe?" He took a swig of orange juice. "I'm afraid so. My memories had changed a few days ago. Now with Cole dead, there's no one strong enough to stop Wyatt. It's going to be ugly."

Piper tossed a dirty spoon into the sink. "Oh God! This is great! My son becomes the scourge of the magical world."

Chris glanced away for a brief second before he added, "I better get going. I guess I should get started on any information about alternate realities."

Before he could teleport out of the room, Phoebe said, "Wait a minute! Don't you need to speak to Piper about something else? Like that matter we had discussed?"

Both Piper and Paige stared at the middle Charmed One and the whitelighter. "What matter?" the former asked.

"It's nothing," Chris quickly said. "Gotta go!"

"Chris!" But the whitelighter orbed out of the kitchen before Phoebe could protest any further.

Piper stared at her younger sister. "What matter where you two talking about?"

To Piper's surprise, Phoebe blushed. "It's nothing, Piper. Well . . . yeah, it's important. But it's best that Chris tell you about it. I've got to go as well. I have a meeting with some lawyer named David Nakano. I think he's Cole's attorney."

"Phoebe . . . wait!" Piper cried. But the middle Charmed One had escaped from the kitchen. Piper turned to her youngest sister. "Now, what the hell was that whole thing with Chris about?"

Paige rose from her seat. "Beats me. I have to get out of here, as well. Barbara . . . well, let's just say that I'm still managing the shop for now. I'll see you later."

Once Paige had left the kitchen, Piper eyed the dirty dishes on the table and sighed. Once again, her sisters had left her alone to clean up their mess. She promised herself that one day, she would force them to do the job, instead.

After dumping the last of the dirty dishes into the sink, Piper turned on the hot water. The pipes began to rattle loudly, causing the Charmed One to nearly jump out of her skin. "Damn pipes!" she muttered. Nearly three days had passed and the pipes were still making noise all over the house. Piper had called the plumber, yesterday morning. One had yet to show up. She reached for the telephone and called the plumbing company.

After being assured that a plumber would arrive within an hour, Piper went upstairs to feed Wyatt. She fed him his breakfast. Then she left the one year-old to sleep, while she cleaned the house. While she set about her task, the Charmed One contemplated on Darryl's theory about Cole and Olivia's deaths. The idea of an evil alternate Olivia committing the murders seemed absurd. At first. And it surprised Piper that Darryl Morris – of all people – would even consider such an idea. But she realized that both the Halliwells, the McNeills and even their closest friends dealt with magic almost on a daily basis. Perhaps Darry's idea was not that absurd, after all.

The doorbell rang. Piper glanced at her watch. It read twenty-three minutes past ten. Her mouth twisted into a slight grimace. She had called the plumbing company nearly two hours ago. What happened to the hour it was supposed to take for them to send one plumber? Someone at that company must be slipping.

Piper headed for the foyer and opened the door. She found a tall, attractive, middle-aged man with curly brown hair that grayed at the temples and hazel-green eyes standing on the stoop. He wore overalls. "Piper Halliwell?" he asked, frowning at his clipboard.

"I see that you're finally here," Piper replied caustically. "I had called nearly two hours ago."

The man sighed. "Sorry, Lady. I had another client. So, what's the problem?"

For some odd reason, Piper found herself recalling the visit of the gas man, some five years ago. Only _he_ had ended up being possessed by the Woogeyman . . . and tried to kill her. Why on earth would she be thinking of that day now?

The Charmed One eyed the plumber warily. "You're with Sherman Plumbing, right?"

"Yes Lady, I am." The plumber rolled his eyes. "My name is Chuck Jarwoski. I've been with the company for the past eleven years. What's the problem?"

Piper hesitated. Realizing that she was being suspicious for no reason, she allowed the plumber inside the house. "Sorry about that. Just being careful. Um . . . it's the kitchen pipes. Well, at least for today. I've been having problems with the pipes both inside the kitchen and the bathroom for the past three days."

"Where's the basement?"

"You can reach it through the kitchen," Piper replied. "That way." She pointed in the direction of the kitchen. She had no intention of turning her back on anyone – save a Halliwell, a McNeill, Darryl, Scott or a whitelighter.

Annoyance flashed in Mr. Jarwoski's eyes. "Lady, where exactly is . . . _'this way'_?"

Piper continued to point in the same direction. "It's a straight walk to the kitchen. Trust me."

The plumber sighed once more and marched straight toward the kitchen. Piper followed closely at his heels. Once they reached it, Jarwoski turned on the sink's hot water. As before, the pipes began to rattle. "Hmmmm, sounds like a loose pressure valve. Or perhaps it's the pipes' discs. Where's the basement?"

Piper pointed at the doorway to the far right. She opened the door and switched on the basement's light. "It's downstairs." As the plumber headed toward the basement, memories of the Woogeyman incident reared its ugly head, once more. She shook her head and returned to the stove, where Wyatt's milk bottle sat in a saucepan. Once it finished warming up, she turned off the stove. And the telephone rang.

The call came from her liquor supplier. It seemed he wanted to verify a shipment of vodka for P3. Unfortunately, Piper had never ordered any vodka. She had ordered Scotch whiskey. Moron. Once she reminded the supplier that he had screwed up an order for the umpteenth time, she gave him the correct request. She finally hung up the telephone, realizing that she needed to find another supplier. Then she remembered Mr. Jarwoski. "Hey!" she cried, while standing in the basement's doorway. "Are you finished yet?"

The plumber's voice floated back. "Not yet. Almost."

Forgetting her vow to keep a close eye on her visitor, Piper left the kitchen and rushed upstairs to fetch her purse. She realized that this plumbing job was going to cost her a pretty penny. Perhaps she could get Phoebe and Paige to pay for part of the bill. When she returned to the basement's doorway, inside the kitchen, and cried out once more, "Are you finished yet?"

"I am now," a voice from behind murmured.

Taken by surprise, Piper whirled around. Something sharp pierced her gut and she cried out in pain. Her eyes widened at the sight of Mr. Jarwoski holding a knife that dripped with her blood. Her mouth hung opened in shock. "Good-bye, Miss Halliwell," Jarwoski coolly added with a smirk. Piper raised her hands in an attempt to vanquish her attacker. Unfortunately, he moved faster and stabbed her again. This time, straight into the heart.

Filled with a deep satisfaction he had not experienced in years, Artemus gazed at the dead witch that lay sprawled on the floor. He knelt beside the body and examined it for a pulse. Nothing. Not a single heartbeat. He had done his job. A cold smile curled his lips. One down and one more to go. At least for today. His eyes glanced upward. Time to deal with the Halliwells' youngest member.

The daemon removed the bottle of milk from the saucepan and unscrewed the top. From inside his pants pocket, he pulled out a small bottle of clear liquid. The bottle's contents happened to be the power stripping potion that the McNeill warlock had left instructions to create. He poured the potion into the bottle of milk and screwed the top back on.

After turning off the stove, Artemus removed the milk from the saucepan and left the kitchen. He paused before the foot of the staircase. With a smile stamped on his face, the daemon shifted into the form of the oldest Charmed One. "Wyatt," he cried softly, "Mommy has a little surprise for you!" Still smiling and clutching the bottle of milk, he teleported to the manor's second floor.

The moment Paige and Harry entered the manor, the telephone rang. The youngest Charmed One strode into the living room to answer the call. "Hello?"

"Paige, is that you?" Phoebe's voice cried.

Paige glanced at her boyfriend, who sat on the living room's sofa, looking slightly morose. "Yeah Pheebs, what is it?"

"Have you seen Chris?" her older sister asked.

_Chris?_ Paige rolled her eyes. "You're looking for him? Why don't you summon him? Better yet, summon Leo."

The middle Charmed One explained that Chris was at her office, when he disappeared. "I turned away one moment to answer a call and suddenly he was gone. It happened this morning."

Heaving an annoyed sigh, Paige suggested that Chris may have been summoned by the Elders. "Why don't you check with Leo? Or Gideon from the Magic School?" She shot another glance at Harry, whose face now expressed contempt at the mention of the Elder's name.

"Paige, no one has seen Chris all day. I tried calling Piper, but I can't get hold of her. I tried Leo. He finally showed up around lunchtime and told me that he hasn't seen Chris since the wake, yesterday." Phoebe paused momentarily. "I'm really starting to worry. The way he had disappeared was so odd."

A frown appeared on Paige's face. As much as the young whiteligher annoyed her, Paige knew that he would never disappear on any of them like that without saying anything. She wondered if Chris might be in trouble. "Look, I'll go to the Elders and ask if they had seen him. Meanwhile, try to reach Piper again."

"Yeah. Okay." Phoebe hung up.

Paige walked over and joined Harry on the sofa. "Something's wrong," she murmured. "Chris disappeared from Phoebe's office and now he's nowhere to be seen."

"Maybe he had to go see another charge," Harry suggested.

Paige shook her head. "Wouldn't Chris have said something before leaving? I know he can high strung and annoying. But he's not rude. At least not like that." She stood up. "I'm going upstairs. Maybe Piper's home." She noticed the haggard expression that had returned to Harry's face. "Why don't you go into the kitchen and get a drink or something? Piper made some lemonade, last night. You can pour a glass for me, as well."

A sigh left Harry's mouth. "Yeah . . . sure." He stood up. Paige planted a light kiss on the side of his mouth. A brief smile appeared on his lips before he headed toward the kitchen.

Meanwhile, Paige climbed the staircase to the second floor. She approached Piper's room and noticed it was empty. Then she headed toward the nursery. When she entered the room, Paige noticed that her nephew was sound asleep in his crib. She started to turn away, when she noticed something odd. Wyatt's head did not rest on a pillow. Instead, the pillow was situated next to the toddler. And his milk bottle had been left on a nearby table. Something that Piper would never do.

An odd sensation tingled at the back of Paige's neck. She strode quickly toward the crib and leaned over to check on her nephew. The Charmed One touched his cheek and realized it was cold. "No!" she cried in horror. "Oh God! No! No!" She touched his pulse and felt nothing. The one year-old was dead. "Oh my God! No! Har-ry! HARRY!"

"Paige! Get down here!" Harry's voice cried. "In the kitchen!"

Tears began to stream down Paige's cheeks, as she rushed downstairs. When she reached the kitchen, she found a grim looking Harry standing over something. Which turned out to be a dead body. Piper's body. "Oh God! Piper! Piper!" Paige fell to her knees and cradled her dead sister in her arms, while her screams filled the kitchen.

**THE END**


End file.

Charmed, Angst, Drama